Central Park Guillaume Musso (read along books .TXT) 📖

looks into my eyes. “And what? Put a bullet in your head?”

I stare back defiantly. “Something like that, yes.”

“I thought you were braver than that.”

“Who are you to talk to me about bravery?”

He takes another step closer. Our foreheads are almost touching; we’re like two boxers before the start of the first round.

“Your unhappiness has blinded you to your good luck. You have a friend who is financing this treatment and who pulled strings to get you a place in this study. Maybe you don’t know this, but most people have to go on a long waiting list before they get this treatment.”

“Well, there you go—I’ll be freeing up a place for someone.”

“Fine. You clearly don’t deserve it.”

Just when I least expect it, I see his eyes shine. In those eyes, I can read anger, sadness, defiance.

“You’re young, you’re a fighter. You’re the most stubborn and determined woman I’ve ever met. If anyone can beat this disease, it’s you. You could be an example for other sufferers, a role model.”

“I don’t want to be a role model, Keyne! This is one battle I can never win, and you know it. So spare me the bullshit.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” he demands angrily. “Well, you’re right—it’s much easier that way. You want to put an end to it all? Go ahead! Your bag’s on the back seat and your gun’s inside.”

And with that, Gabriel strides off toward the hospital.

He is provoking me. He is irritating the hell out of me. I’m so tired. He doesn’t realize that he shouldn’t lead me out to that place, that I’ve spent too long walking on the edge of the abyss. I open the door of the Mustang and grab the satchel. I unbuckle the straps. The Glock is there, along with my cell phone, the battery almost dead. Without thinking, I put the phone in my pocket, then check the magazine and shove the pistol into my belt.

The sun is quite high in the sky now.

I look into the distance and blink, dazzled by the silver reflections dancing on the surface of the lake. Without a glance at Gabriel, I walk away from the car and toward the dock.

There is a peacefulness to the landscape that radiates a kind of power, serene and harmonious. Up close, the water looks clear, almost turquoise.

Finally, I turn around. Gabriel is no more than a silhouette in the driveway. Too far away to intervene.

I grip the polymer butt of the Glock and take a deep breath.

I am devastated, exhausted. I feel like I have been falling, falling, falling for years.

I close my eyes. In my head, I see fragments of a storyline whose ending I already know. Deep down, didn’t I always believe that it would end this way?

Alone, but free.

The way I have always tried to live my life.

28With One Heart

I PLACE THE COLD gun barrel inside my mouth.

So I can stay in control. Not become a woman with no memory, a sick, helpless person locked up in a hospital room.

So I can decide, to the end, the path my existence should take.

While my mind is still lucid.

No one can take that away from me.

My last freedom.

Eyes closed, I see moments of happiness from my life with Paul rush past. Thousands of images that the wind will sweep away, carry up into the atmosphere, opening a way to heaven.

Suddenly I see him, holding his father’s hand. The child whose name we hadn’t even chosen yet, who will never have a name. The child I will never know but whose face I imagined so many times.

They are there, the two of them, in the welcoming darkness. The two men of my life.

I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I keep my eyes closed, the gun in my mouth, my finger on the trigger, ready to fire. Ready to join them.

And then the child lets go of Paul’s hand and takes a few steps toward me. He is so beautiful…no longer a baby. He’s a little boy now. Wearing a checkered shirt, his pant legs rolled up. How old is he? Three, maybe four? I stare at him, fascinated by the purity of his gaze, the innocence of his expression, the promises and the challenges that I read in his eyes.

“Mommy, I’m scared. Come with me, please.”

He calls out to me. He holds out his hand.

I’m scared too.

The attraction is powerful. I choke on a sob. And yet I know that this child is not real. That he is only a projection of my mind.

“Come with me, Mommy, please…”

I’m coming…

My finger is poised on the trigger. An abyss opens up inside me. My whole body tenses, as if the yawning gap that has existed inside me since childhood is widening.

This is the story of a sad, solitary girl who never found her place in the world. A human bomb, about to explode. A pressure cooker simmering for too long with resentment, dissatisfaction, the desire to be elsewhere.

Do it. Squeeze the trigger. The pain and fear will vanish instantly. Do it now. You’re brave enough, lucid enough, weak enough…it’s the right time.

A trembling along my thigh.

The cell phone vibrating in my pocket.

I try to keep them with me, but Paul and the child evaporate. Sadness gives way to anger. I open my eyes, pull the pistol from my mouth, and, in a rage, answer my phone. I hear Gabriel’s voice:

“Don’t do it, Alice.”

I turn around. He is fifty yards away from me, coming closer.

“We’ve said everything there is to say, Gabriel.”

“I don’t think we have.”

In despair, I scream: “Leave me alone! Are you worried about your career, is that it? A patient blowing her head off on the grounds of your beautiful clinic…bad for the image, right?”

“You’re no longer my patient, Alice.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“You know the rules. A doctor is not allowed to be in love with his patient.”

“Are you kidding? Is that the best line you can come up with?”

“Why do you think